


subway moves

by aloophen



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, is it too late for me to make animal crossing references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:14:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27948113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aloophen/pseuds/aloophen
Summary: You run into an old friend during your early morning commute.
Relationships: Suna Rintarou/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 97





	subway moves

Something about the subway just brings out the worst in people.

Everyday you endure the claustrophobic rush of commuters dashing in all directions as though they’re the only ones with destinations. This morning is no different and you find yourself fighting your way past salarymen and kids of various sizes to get onto your train, your third cup of boiling hot coffee balanced precariously in one hand.

The train’s a little less crowded than usual but you’re still ready to throw elbows at a moment’s notice. You look around to see if you’re lucky and there’s an available seat. Quickly, your eyes lock on to one.

There’s some lanky creature hibernating on the only bench with an empty seat, his face partially stuffed into his hoodie. He’s literally given himself a wide berth, his long legs splayed outwards.

You’re bleary eyed and your coffee is taking its sweet time to kick in, so you’re not about to be warded off by this giant lump on the bench.

“Excuse me,” you try. No response. Oh well, you gave him a warning.

“Whatever, dude,” you plop down onto the bench next to him, his knee knocks into yours.

_Man-spreading all over the damn bench_ , you think as you take your bag and shove it between the two of you, _dickhead_.

That’ll show him.

The stranger’s head slightly pops out from his hoodie. His grayish-yellow and equally bleary eyes blink at you slowly.

Then he goes right back to sleep.

You roll your eyes. Then you pause. _I know that’s not who I think it is._

Doing a double take, you frown at his slackened form, not because you want to pick a fight, but because those pale eyes actually looked really familiar, “Suna?”

The stranger makes a sleepy, confused noise. 

You refrain from poking at him, your bag is already doing that job for you, but lean towards the opening of his hoodie and give him your name, “Do you remember me from middle school…?”

God, you really hope it’s him. You don’t want to be someone else’s subway weirdo of the day. 

His eyes crack back open, he takes a moment to observe you, eyes still blinking at the pace of molasses, “Oh, it’s you...crybaby.”

“Hey!” You shriek at the old nickname, other passengers take notice and shoot you glares that warn you it’s too damn early for the noise. Cowed, you cover your mouth and turn back to Suna. “Don’t call me that,” you mutter. 

Suna unfolds himself from his slumped position on the bench and, man, he is _long_. He pulls the hood off of his head and smoothes down his hair. “My bad, crybaby,” he yawns. 

Then he looks pointedly at your bag which is still digging into his side. You move it into your lap and explain, “Sorry, you were kind of all over the place.”

“Yeah, you made your point when you stabbed me with your purse.”

He shifts over so you have a humane amount of space to sit in without locking limbs with him. Then he surprises you by making small talk, “How’ve you been?”

“I’m good, on my way to my internship. What are you doing back in Tokyo? Aren’t you a country boy now?”

“Country boy? It’s still a city, not the boonies” he grumbles, “I’m here visiting family.” 

“Oh, that’s nice,” you nod politely.

He glances at you, “I’m headed to our old school now, actually. Helping out with their morning volleyball practice. Your brother will be there, right?”

“Oh, right! He told me about that.” You smile, “That should be a nice reunion.”

He nods. There’s a pause of pleasant silence and you take a moment to sip at your cooled down coffee. 

You hear Suna make an interested noise and you glance at him, “Hey, we’re old friends, right?”

Apprehension crawls into your voice, “Sure…”

He points to the coffee in your hand, “Could I have some of that?”

You stare at the coffee in your hand before looking back at him. He sounds awake, but he still looks like he could pass out at any second.

You consider it. In middle school, he was always nice enough to share with you whenever your brother refused. It certainly contributed to the tiny crush you had on him at the time. And he probably needs it more than you do if he’s going to be jumping around all morning. 

You allow it, “Here.”

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver,” he drinks a civil amount of your coffee before handing it back to you. 

He leans back in his seat and sighs, “Doesn’t this remind you of when we were younger?”

“Huh?”

“Middle school. We used to keep each other awake on the train ride to school.”

“You mean _I_ kept you and my brother awake on the train ride to school.”

He shrugs, “Sure.”

Suna closes his eyes in thought, “You always had some weird game you were playing on your phone.”

You can feel your face flushing in embarrassment, “Well, you two were always laughing at something stupid on your phones!”

He hums. “I still have your brother’s number, never got yours,” he mentions. 

You’re not sure how to respond to that; you don’t have a chance to as he sits back up, “Hey, why don’t you keep me awake?”

“Excuse me?”

“It’ll be just like old times.”

He’s starting to look heavy-eyed again. If he went back to sleep, there was a very good chance he’d accidentally sleep past his stop. It happened all of the time in middle school.

You huff and take out your phone. He smirks and leans against you, “So, what’re we playing.”

_He smells nice_ , you think unexpectedly. 

Then you look down at your phone. Instantly you feel self-conscious about the array of dumb games you have on it.

You’re definitely not opening up one of your silly food games, in your current BitLife career you’re a porn star, so that’s off the table, and he doesn’t need to know you still sometimes play Flappy Bird.

With a sigh you hope doesn’t sound too exasperated, you open Pocket Camp. Yes, Animal Crossing for mobile. Your friends had abandoned you as soon as the new main game had dropped, but you were deeply committed. And you weren’t about to drop big bucks on a Switch just to play one game. 

You go through your daily tasks: fishing, catching bugs, watering your plants. Suna looks over your shoulder; he hasn’t complained of boredom so far, but your skin still feels prickled in your discomfort. 

“Sorry, this is lame,” you mumble.

He blinks at you and doesn’t respond. Instead, he turns from you, taking his phone from his pocket and begins tapping away at it. You feel a sharp thud in your stomach at his dismissal. You’re about to scream internally from embarrassment when suddenly you hear a burst of cheery music from his phone. 

He rotates his hand to show you his screen, “All of my campers are penguins.”

You gawk at his screen, so he didn’t think you were a loser? “Oh, that’s cute,” you can’t completely mask your voice thickening with emotion. 

“Don’t start crying over a game, crybaby,” he laughs. 

“Shut up!”

For the rest of the trip, you compare campsites and argue over who has the better set-up and campers. The voice announcement of the train’s next stop distracts you.

“Your stop is next,” you tell him.

“Oh.”

Suna’s brow furrows; he looks like he’s thinking strenuously about something, it’s the most effort you’ve seen him make all morning.

He turns back to you, “Can I have your number?”

All you can manage is a strangled and confused sound. 

There’s an analytical look in his eyes; one you got used to seeing when he was on court, when he found an opponent he really wanted to get one over on. 

“I always thought you were cute,” he continues. 

“This isn’t really a great setting for this, y'know,” you stammer.

“Where else am I supposed to ask you.”

He’s got you there.

But he notices there's still an apprehensive look on your face. 

“I’ll water your flowers,” he offers.

None of your friends ever log on to help you with garden events anymore.

“Give me your phone,” you tell him. 

He puts an arm around you, his phone screen ready with an empty contact page. He prompts you to put your number in. 

When you finish filling in your information, the train has stopped. Suna squeezes your shoulder and kisses you on your temple before getting up from his seat.

“Thanks for the coffee,” he smiles, “let's see each other again, I’ll even let you stab me with your purse some more.” 

You sat, flustered, as he walked over to the train doors. He turns to you with a raised hand as they open, “I'll text you.” Then he’s gone.

When you recover, you can feel yourself beaming with joy. The guy who sits down next to you, loudly arguing on his phone, doesn't even register. You’re so lost in elation you have to scramble off the train when you get to your stop, but your smile is fixed on your face for the rest of the day. 

**Author's Note:**

> @alouphen on tumblr, i haven't been crossposting everything so there's more work there if you're interested!


End file.
